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Posted by MFish

After the great World War, WW II
My Dad bought a tavern
On 45th Ave, close to the U.
The name I recall, from the past
Was the Looking Glass.
A small little place
For as you walked in the door,
The bar was on the left
And booths on the right.
It wasn't unusual
For the Veterans to fight.
I would go with my Dad
After church, on Sunday morn
And sit at the bar
As Dad worked. I drank a coke
And could smell the sour spilled beer.
Vivid memories, do my mind clog,
I ate a pickled Polish Dog.
Years have passed
And the Tavern is still there,
With a different name.
Stopped in one time on our way
From a Soccer match at Lower Woodland.
Same place, Walk in the door
Bar on the left and booths on the right.
Had a small beer, but skipped the dog
A great memory for that night.

A shadow fell across the moon
the day my brother died
and grief poured from my soul
and tore me up inside.

I can't remember, in this short life
and perhaps I've never tried,
to think about the grief and sorrow
the day my brother died,
for he was but a child of three
and should have lived, much longer.
I'm sure he would have if God had made
his body that much stronger.

The years have passed, as has the grief and sorrow
and eyes then wet with tears, have dried,
but I will always remember
the day my brother died.

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